


Discreet and Effective

by DrByron



Category: Borderlands
Genre: Asphyxiation, Blake being a little devil, Comparative analysis of ther views on sex, Consentual experimentation, Gratuitous pornography, M/M, Mentioning of wet dream, Tassiter being complicated
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-22
Updated: 2015-12-22
Packaged: 2018-05-08 07:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5489120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrByron/pseuds/DrByron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hyperion's CEO Harold Tassiter orders his employee Mr Blake to his apartment for an important late night assignment. But instead of receiving the usual orders, Blake might be able to turn this very special request into something he'd much rather do with his thursday night.<br/>An erotic comparative character study.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Discreet and Effective

It was 10pm at Harold Tassiter's private apartment.  
“I have a special assignment for you, Jeffrey."  
And he usually never wasted time with hackneyed phrases, unless he wanted to stall for time. The modernistic interior design looked like a fitted exhibition piece of a furnishing store that would pride itself on both, restocking every quarter for staying top-of-the-line, and having achieved perfect independence from the temporariness of fashions. Geometric bodies with a sophisticated lack of color constructed the surrounding -no playful hint at time periods, worldliness or personal quirks.  
It was a fort so heavily guarded by Tassiter's lack of hospitality that it seemed almost uncomfortably neat. Only Jeffrey Blake was the rare but repeated exception trusted inside. Trusted to not make a mess or a remark unwanted or the visit too obtrusively intimate. The times that Tassiter had been at _Blake's_ (more hospitable) flat, on the other hand, could not be counted on two hands anymore. Intruding other people's privacy was perfectly fine, after all.  
“It won't take too long.” Mr. Tassiter assured. “You have a meeting at 7 next morning, I am aware, and I wouldn't cause needless fatigue in my more valued employees.”  
The keyword being _needless_ fatigue, Blake added in thought. _Justified_ fatigue was part of the job.  
“Though my inquiry will probably strike you as a little... unconventional?” The CEO's voice croaked. “So _every_ delay due to hesitation or additional questions will entirely be your fault." His arms crossed defiantly over his chest. "Please, _don't_ interrupt me. And most importantly, _do not_ tell a soul when we're done."

Jeffrey Blake was already out of his work clothes, instead wearing a petrol blue turtleneck and grey slacks with a scales pattern. It made him look rather underdressed compared to the owner of the dark grey couch he lounged his casual business self on. Said owner was still in his cardinal red pressed button down, black double-breasted vest and slim tie combo. It was 10:02 pm on a Thursday and Harold Tassiter was still not dressed to relax, though the transitional steps between office and bed were usually minimized for efficiency anyway. The knot of his tie was loosened up, though, and not quite clung to his throat as it usually tends to do. Blake wondered to what he owed the honor of seeing his superior so very _laid-back_.

“Of course, my lips are sealed. Business as usual." The employee assured, lifting his eyes from the tie.  
"Good." The CEO confirmed with a firm nod, eyeing his opposite for measurement. Blake consciously repositioned to optimize his aura of professionalism. The right balance of proper posture and a display of comfort between respected friends. He wondered about the added challenge of their difference in attire, the dissonance of occasion and intent. Usually, Harold was desensitized by all these years they've known each other, both, professionally and personally. He was desensitized by the fact that Jeffrey's apparel tended to be on the outlandish side of formal, with colors, patterns and shapes that are only found on vintage attire or designer fashion inspired by long gone decades. As soon as the Hyperion employee had found himself in a position where he could allow himself to, he stopped catering towards current trends and expectations. It was an assertion of power when entering a conversation, too -Blake clarified that he didn't need to dress up in company-issued clothes to play it safe and pay respect. It was actually quite a rude challenge clashing with his superficially polite etiquette. It was also rather risqué in Tassiter's book, but this came from a perspective that considered an atmosphere of dark, mature timelessness, free from any personal tomfooleries, the best way to present oneself. At all times. Still, this difference hadn't stopped Tassiter from nurturing a certain trust towards his acquaintance. So if the matter was urgent, these aesthetics certainly wouldn't stop him.  
Still, it was 10:06pm, and Hyperion's CEO still failed to bring himself to put his request into words. A hesitation utterly uncharacteristic of the usually efficiency-addicted man.  
“Well... how do I put this...” He sighed with exhaustion. Blake knew that this defensive frown was him being nervous.  
  
"Could you... here..." Only hesitantly, Tassiter took Blake's hands and cautiously guided them towards himself. He closed the other man's fingers around his throat, so careful it was almost sensual, and just like this, Blake understood the incentive. He laid his slender fingers upon skin that was almost surprisingly warm to the touch and began to squeeze. First softly, then firmly, finally... enough to make him hiccup. Not enough to choke, but enough to make talking just a little awkward.  
"Oh." Tassiter hawked. "So you, uh... you know what I wanted to ask." His words wormed out of his constricted neck only with effort. His hands let go in a relieved self-abandonment, and only Jeffrey's remained. His skin was growing hot and slightly damp -sweaty with nervousness. Underneath the constricting fingers, a failed attempt at swallowing made his adam's apple bob.  
"I figured you would have been more straightforward and less fidgety, if this was about measuring your neck for a new shirt, my dear." Blake gave a smirk of distance melting away, loosening his grip. He pressed his digits against the sensitive skin in alteration, curious finger by curious finger, before he tightened his grip again. With more absolution. Tassiter gasped and his eyelids fluttered shut, traitors as they were. Blake observed him with morbid and playful intrigue. He didn't need to know what exactly was going on to properly fulfil what was asked of him, and so far, it seemed to deliver what was demanded. He didn't want to interrupt whatever mental process his associate was going through, and would wait until he would explain more on his own. As Tassiter slowly leaned back into a horizontal position, Blake let his hands be guided by the reclining neck. With a small cough getting caught in his throat, a delighted smirk on Tassiter's lips indicated that he was quite extraordinarily satisfied with the result.  
  
"Should we discuss the 'assignment', or should we make it like teenagers and continue in awkward silence, assuming it's _'way cool'_ to not communicate...?" Blake hummed, giving Tassiter enough space to speak without complications.  
"Make sure I don't die or faint. That's all you need to know, isn't it?" Tassiter mumbled quickly, impatiently fumbling at Blake's hands to urge them to continue. Blake followed, squeezing.  
"Would you like me to confirm whether this is an _erotic interest_ you could pursue in the future? Or is it obvious enough to yourself, dear?" Blake's voice dropped with the slightest hint of sarcasm.  
"Hey, hey, hey! Watch your mouth!" Tassiter protested with a strangled voice. He patted Blake's arm to signal him to let go. Tassiter coughed and rubbed his mangled throat. Losing the tie, opened the two top buttons of his shirt, he was eagerly hurrying to create better access, despite his sulky visage to accompany the gesture.  
"Just because I ask you to _strangle_ me, doesn't mean you can have that sassy attitude towards me, Mister."  
Blake bowed his head in agreement, looking up at him from under his brow.  
"Of course, excuse my slip of manners." He cooed bittersweetly. He was quite provocatively not sorry. He knew exactly when Harold was a just being a defensive sorehead and when he was _genuinely_ offended.  
  
“Geez, Jeffrey, whenever I speak with you, it feels like you're skipping a few steps every now and then!” Tassiter shook his head with a slightly offended snicker and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You're falling into my word before I even get the chance to start! I didn't... I didn't say anything about it being _sexual_.”  
“Oh, but you love it.” Blake leaned back and enjoyed a decadent smile. “ My ability to figuratively read your mind, that is. Anybody's mind, really. You like _that thing I do_ , you're just nervous about the specific subject at hand.”  
“You are being _very_ presumptuous right now...” Tassiter lowered his eyelids to a scolding glare and crossed his arms.  
“Oh Harold, I am simply aware that time is money, and _yours_ is too scarce to be wasted.” Blake explained matter-of-factly, gently brushing his fingers over his crossed forearms. “If I understand something before it has been put into words, I'll skip ahead. Either to confuse, or to save time. _If_ my opposite is intelligent enough to keep up, that is. And you sure are, aren't you...” He hummed coquettishly.  
“We as people waste a lot of time repeating things that the other one already knows, and we're playing naive and surprised, even though the statement had announced itself three sentences ago.” He continued.  
Tassiter rolled his eyes and mumbled hesitant agreement.  
“I guess.” His subtle but not fully contained smirk betrayed his enjoyment in Jeffrey's condescending attitude. “But your proposition that this assignment is implying a desire for sexual experimentation is a _straw man fallacy_ , a complete misrepresentation of your opponent -me- for argument's sake.” He sing-songed the challenge.  
“…Oh, talk _rhetoric_ to me.” Blake purred delightedly. He slowly bent over the lying CEO, not letting him out of his sight for even a blink, and earned a little smirk for it. Gently cupping his face one hand, Blake run his thumb over Tassiter's blushed cheek and gazed at him with unhidden fondness.  
"A _wishful thinking fallacy_ , that's what it was. Quite obviously.” Tassiter hummed the words, smug with the attention that Blake was flattering him with. Despite the confidence, his face still managed to heat up all the more. Jeffrey simply smiled in reply -eyelids lowered, bodies close, he didn't say anything to object. Scanning the expression of the other in careful detail, Blake decided to come a little closer. He softly brushed his lips over Harold's cheek, letting them wander. He could have sworn that he felt the softest of goose bumps and realized how the impression made a prickling sensation run down his own nape, too.  
  
But before he could reach the crevice of the landscape, this formation called lips, they began to move again.  
“...Oh fucking hell.” A defeated moan broke the tension, jabbing the air with expletives. Harold broke into laughter and covered his eyes in amusement. “Oh alright... I admit it, you're correct. Yes Jeffrey, everything you said was as right as always. And me, I'm a filthy pervert taking advantage of his position.”  
Jeffrey raised an eyebrow and had to join in with a bit of quiet snickering.  
"Technically, I'm off hours, Harry... I'm doing this as your _friend_..." He patiently hovered just above the other's face.  
“Hahaha, oh I know. But... Just to make sure you don't have any wrong impressions after all...” Tassiter began. “I have considered whether I might be interested this sort of practice. It wasn't really that important, you know that I have better things to do. I just... had time for it tonight and the thought started to distract me.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug.  
“Then… please excuse this personal question, but why didn’t you try it yourself, while you…?” Blake threw a short clarifying glance towards the other’s nether regions.  
“What? While what? Oh, I don’t…” Tassiter snorted in amusement. “I don’t do that kind of filth in my free time. We’ve had that conversation.”  
“Well, of course, how would I forget _that_.” Blake chuckled at the memory. “But I thought that for the occasion, you would make an exception. Or do it without any further stimulation… just the neck.” He brushed a seductive finger over his throat. “Fetishes don’t need to aim for orgasms, after all…”  
“Fair point, but no. Don’t be silly. This is what I asked you for. I know I can count on you to be discreet and effective, Jeff.”  
“Mhh yes, these are indeed qualities I have. Good choice.” Blake hummed into the crook of his neck, breathing the scent of his expensive cologne. As the other man did nothing to undermine his sensual approaches, he sluggishly began to open the buttons of his double-breasted vest. Harold Tassiter was a man who would _punch you into next week_ for approaching him unsolicitedly, after all, so in this specific case, no reaction was a good reaction.  
  
“So, uh...” Tassiter fidgeted while he stared at the ceiling. “Do you think I am... into this? Do I look aroused? Feelings are so utterly impossible to discern sometimes… How the hell did anybody ever manage to invent categories? Am I feeling angry? Sadistic? Delighted? Aroused? Afraid? Am I having a stroke? Hell if I know!"  
Blake's smirk was broad and horrendously smug, and Tassiter's indignant frown showed that he wished Jeff hadn't been so spot-on with his initial predictions.  
"Judging from your dilated pupils, flushed face, trembling body and slight sweatiness...” Blake mused, his eyes languidly wandering across the man underneath him.  
“Yes?” Tassiter raised his eyebrows.  
“And from the fact that you have an erection...” He cocked a sarcastic brow. “I'd have a wild guess and say you're aroused.”  
“See, of course I knew that! I just wanted to have an outside opinion to be really sure...!” Tassiter beamed, priggish and self-satisfied.  
  
As he cleared his throat, his change of expression paved the way for a little less humorous matters again. “So, Jeffrey...” He announced.  
“Oh, you want me to asphyxiate you a little more?” Blake hummed in his impossibly deep baritone.  
“Well, do you expect me to be satisfied with a little squeeze?” Tassiter scoffed. “I'm not asking you to do anything inappropriate, just a bit of of a _special neck massage_ and off you go. You've done much worse for-... oh!”  
As the other man flung a knee over his body to straddle him, the words got stuck in his throat.  
“Okay, well this is inappropriate, but I suppose if that is the best position to gather force...” Tassiter arched his throat and lowered his eyes invitingly. Blake lovingly wrapped his fingers around the willing offering. He tightened his grip around the beautifully slender neck and gradually put his whole weight into it.  
“Yeah, like that... ooh...” Tassiter murmured. With every wheeze he sounded more like a broken rubber duck, and Blake couldn't deny that he simply adored what he saw and heard.  
  
The way Harold abandoned himself to the trust exercise like it was second nature, was a rare and surreal treat. There weren't many situations where you'd witness the great Harold Tassiter letting go off his personality-defining full-body tension. Joyfully leaning into the gesture, Jeffrey could feel Harold's erection pulsing between them.  
“Goddammit, Jeffrey, I could… I could use use a little more I think…” Blake felt the other's throat vibrating against his slightly loosened grip.  
“You don't want to faint, do you?” He teased, breathing a soft kiss onto his jaw.  
“No, I mean-... I mean _more_.” Tassiter gave an annoyed, nervous sigh while his eyes impatiently pointed south.  
"Oh, that's what you're talking about...” The realization made his face brighten and darken in succession, ending in a mischievous glint tainting his otherwise gentlemanly politeness. He sat up to shift his spindly body weight to the exact right spot, and it did what it should, causing Harold to give a sharp hiss.  
  
“And here I thought you would organize something... more _romantic_!" Jeffrey chuckled, softly rocking his hips back and forth. "More by the book and with a rigid step-by-step plan and scheduled dates in advance. Just so much more conservative, actually.”  
Tassiter rubbed his right eye, hiding half of his face in embarrassment.  
“I didn't want to make this a big deal... it would've been silly, to-” His breath hitched.  
“Even though it is a big deal for you...” Blake supplemented. But Tassiter's scowl made his features soften. “Oh, it is for me too, I didn't mean it like that. I’m tickled pink! But it's not a source of anxiety, but rather-”  
The other interrupted him: “I don't want it to be a big deal, Jeffrey. Now _please_...!”  
"...Sure. I understand."

Blake complied and leaned his forehead against his. Now unhindered by the peeled vest, his fingertips curiously slid down Tassiter's front, crossing beyond the point of belly button. "I'm seeing that something has become quite the _big_ deal, though." He whispered as he cupped the bulge in Harold's slacks and provoked a shocked gasp. He shuddered into the couch as if to disappear, but wantonly lifted his hips towards the sensation and the hips just above. As Jeffrey had still a second hand open for occupation, he slid along the same path again -now opening every button along the way. He freed him off the constraining business attire to revealing the sensitive, pale skin that would hardly even see artificial light, let alone anything that could cause a tan. Before Blake could pull down the holy barrier of the zipper, Tassiter grabbed the bottom hem of his blue woollen turtleneck, and impatiently tugged it up. Blake willingly evened the odds and took off his jumper over crossed arms, making sure that his opposite had all the access he'd so desire. The coolish air made his skin feel tingly and raw, as if he could feel the other's gaze burning on his body's surface. They scanned each other with silent, mutual appreciation. An appreciation of both, their physical similarities and their differences. They were both unsightly skinny, with ribs rippling the surface of their torso as soon as they stretched even the slightest bit. Jeffrey was the slightly taller one of the two, with everything elegantly elongated, his limbs, his fingers, his face. Whereas Harold was more narrow in shoulder breadth, yet a bit more squared in silhouette. His fingers, too, looked adorably blocky -more fit for a handyman than a highbrow.  
Blake ran his hands over the chest adorned with a diamond-shaped patch of short dark curls that thinned out towards his ribs and clavicles. The few greying hairs in between were impossible to miss. Harold's chest hair always looked more virile than his own -sufficiently present but light in color and easy to miss from afar. It was more suitable for haptic than visual appreciation.  
  
“How much control do you want to have?” Jeffrey hummed, playfully stressing the grip he has on the other's crotch.  
Harold sucked in a sharp breath. “None...”  
“Except for saying stop and go.” Jeffrey supplemented, massaging him.  
“Yes.” Harold closed his eyes, clenching his teeth.  
“Well, if this isn't worth the over-hours...” Jeffrey opened the button, unhooked the inner fastener, and slowly pulled down the zipper.  
“What?” Harold pressed his lips together, cheeks uncomfortably hot.  
“The grand Harold Tassiter, CEO of Hyperion, a man who keeps his personal matters so close to himself one might think he has no private life, no weakness, no emotion at all, but determination, frustration and pride… this man is now wanton putty to be shaped by my hands, blushing like a young boy.”  
He slid his long slender fingers underneath the waistband of his slacks, and wrapped them around the swelling. Harold's breath hitched, feeling every single digit shockingly cold against his own heightened temperature. He gave an eternally tired sigh and rubbed his eyes.  
“I just want a break, Jeff...”  
“I know, dear, I know. The safeword is 'pay rise', alright?” Blake placidly kissed his cheek, enjoying the little squirming it caused.  
  
While observing the other's features with curiosity, Jeffrey shoved Harold's slacks down to make the hardened member to spring free. He seized the erection and began to fist it, first slow and sluggish, then increasingly firm. But Harold's eyes were closed, his face was closed, his emotions a mystery, and from the looks of it, he might as well have been focused on a meditative exercise.  
“You'll never relax enough if you use the same paradigms as you usually do... you're too logical, it just clogs you up.” Blake whispered gently.  
“You're just as prudent as I am, smartass, so by that logic-” He sneered, grabbing Jeffrey's hips, trying to urge him down.  
“But I lean back and enjoy the moment when appropriate, it's a conscious decision, dear...” He repositioned his body to lower himself right in front of the erection, subtly rocking back and forth against it. Harold could feel -and see- that Jeffrey was very hard too.  
“Oh _sorry_ I didn't have the time to train this, someone was busy taking over a multimillion dollar company!” Blake stopped his lips from talking by approaching them with his own. Only after a moment of consideration, gaze jumping back and forth from Jeffrey's lips and his eyes, Harold accepted the offer with a careful dry kiss. Sighing, he slid his boney arms around the taller man. Initially hesitant, but soon with a more demanding grip. Jeffrey felt himself fall victim to a little burst of impatience and parted his lips to deepen the chaste kiss into a hungry, long-awaited union. As their mouths parted and both gasped for air, Tassiter immediately buried his nose in the crook of Blake's throat.  
“I always forget how good you smell, Jeff. That's a... that's a very sophisticated aftershave.” He mumbled against his shoulder.  
“You haven't _failed_ any _inspection_ now, Harry, you know that.” Jeffrey whispered, his hand teasingly sliding along Harold's shaft between them. “Whether you manage to relax or not, whether you manage to keep the arousal or not, whether you'll react to my touches or not... Let's appreciate this for the sake of the journey, not the destination.”  
“...yeah, sure.” Harold let his hands fall to his sides in abandon, subtly rutting against the sensation of the hand on his center. “Although keep in mind... we've gathered here for a very specific reason...” He gave a dark smirk, playfully dragging his fingernails along Jeffrey's throat.  
Immediately understanding, the other's hands wandered over the naked torso, brushing over sensitive nipples, pooling around his neck.  
“And I hate leaving assignments unfinished.” Jeffrey completed the thought with an equally foreboding smile.  
Harold's lips parted into a roguish grin.  
  
With one brutish gesture, Blake cut off all his air supply. Tassiter instinctually hooked his fingers underneath the brutal hands around his neck, but stopped and pulled them away even before starting to properly defend himself.  
With eyes fluttering into an unfocused gaze, he hacked up a few strangled noises that were unbirthed coughs. Blake kept his hands firm and steady, constricted them even more -and the hot skin burned under his touch. As the color of Tassiter's face ran pinker and barely tipped over into purple, he let go, knowing that this was the indication for a break.  
"Jeffrey..." Harold wheezed hoarsely, hands examining the other's body as if trying to scan him for weak spots.  
The taller man towering over the hot mess underneath kept his eyes locked and steady. Him, distant and suave, the other, angry and greedy. Blake tugged down Tassiter's slacks and his briefs, but their expressions didn't change. Knowing he'd prefer it that way, Jeffrey rid himself of his own trousers too -but kept the shorts for the time being.  
"Better be fucking careful, Jeff...” Harold warned him with a low murmur, grabbing his wrist and guiding it towards his hips.  
Blake hooked one arm under the slender leg, pulling his knee towards his chest.  
"I'm gonna fire you, Jeff..." Tassiter continued his mumbled threat.  
"How cute. We both know you'd never do such a thing." Blake cooed, patting his bottom with appreciation.  
"You're not stupid, my dear, you know that you and Hyperion are better off _with_ my services."  
Blake sucked on two fingers of his right hand while he kept eye contact without a trace of shame. He released them with a wet pop and strings of saliva splitting in between. Harold slightly shook his head, astonished that Blake would make such a vulgar show out of it. The taller man guided the moist fingers between the other's cheeks, and began gently rubbing over the entrance.  
"I'm obedient, respectful and efficient... I have a keen intellect suitable for professional and private advantages. And I know how to flatter you. I'm your best man."  
Jeffrey carefully inserted one single slender finger. Harold cringed and made an undignified grunt.  
"You _adore_ me." Blake growled in his smoky timbre.  
He felt the other clench up around him, and a small groan accompanied that sensation. Although it was not one of pleasure, but rather one of exhaustion.

“Dear lord, Jeffrey, just... dammit, I wish I could tell you to just shut up.”  
“Why can't you?” Blake smirked, slowly squeezing his finger deeper.  
“I can't, because your voice makes this a whole lot better.” Tassiter admitted hesitantly.  
“Oh, you like my voice?” Blake purred. “You never told me before... you're spoiling me with compliments tonight.”  
Tassiter made impatient gestures towards their connective area, tense flat palms criticizing the lack of proper movement.  
“Ohh, do you notice how you're pulsing around me...? How vulgar...” Blake whispered seductively. “It feels... so good.” It was clichéd, a parody of the cheapest dirty talk, but that provided half of the effect. He rotated his index finger in circles, gently stretching the tense muscle.  
“God fucking dammit, Jeff.” Tassiter groaned.  
“Ohh, but it does. You feel so tight... And so hot...” He didn't even sound that serious, but the effect stayed the same. He was downright mocking it. “You think you can relax enough so you can feel a whole lot more of me? Oh baby, you're really heating up...”  
Tassiter rolled his eyes, but in combination with his arched back and his flushed skin, it seemed more obscene than annoyed.  
“ _Baby_ , really? Just keep going, Jeff...” Harold murmured and closed his eyes, focusing on his other senses besides sight.  
As a second finger squeezed in, Jeffrey could observe Harold's swollen prick give a little desperate twitch.  
“Fuck.” Harold hissed.  
“You told me to keep going.” Blake pushed the two fingers all the way in, up until the knuckles. Gradually, he introduced his partner to the sensation of movement. Slick with spit, they glided back and forth, finding a more and more willing surrounding. Tassiter was quiet, too quiet, and as still as if he was pretending to be asleep and only twitching from bad dreams. But it wasn't long until he began to carefully rock his hips in rhythm.  
“Look at that, someone's getting into it... how naughty. Should you be doing this, Mr CEO?” Blake teased, folding Tassiter's legs towards his torso into an agonizingly vulnerable position.  
Tassiter sighed, his palms hiding his face, rubbing his eyes. “Well, should you be doing this, Mr Mercenary Relations? Getting your superior all hot and bothered...” He snarled.  
  
Without so much as a warning, Tassiter slightly kicked Blake's shoulder to make him retreat, and immediately reached for the side table next to the couch. Confused but patient, Jeffrey waited until a little tinfoil package was stuffed into his hands.  
He first blinked at Harold's fierce gaze, and then opened his hand to look what was inside... and it was undeniably a condom.  
  
"That is...” Blake suppressed an undignified snicker. “Not my size."  
"...what?" Tassiter deadpanned.  
"This is not... look I don't mean to insult you, my dear, so let's stay with 'I can't wear this'." His face split into an apologetic grin.  
"But this is...” Tassiter's embarrassment quickly toppled into anger, as it always does, and sneered with his nose up high.  
“Well excuse me for not scanning your genitals more thoroughly whenever I got the chance! I usually have other priorities in life than your crown jewels, Jeffrey." Tassiter crossed his arms. And then contorted awkwardly, into a statuesque 'thinker position', to hide his lonely erection.  
"It's okay, Harry. I am open to doing it without protection with you.” Jeffrey suggested. “What I mean is, we do have very recent documents confirming that we're both healthy... well...” He chuckled. “...besides your lactose, monosodium glutamate and gluten intolerance -and the ALDH2 deficiency. But those are entirely unaffected by sexual interaction.”  
"That doesn't matter, I won't have your dick in me without protection.” Harold protested. “First, think of the hygiene! You'll get an infection from all those bacteria alone, and I'll gag from the thought of it! Second, I don't want your _semen_ in me. And don't get started with pulling out, the thought alone is a huge turn-off."  
"Should I go fetch one, or-..."  
Tassiter groaned in exasperation. "Um, no? I am horny now?! I think?!” He pulled down Jeffrey's shorts while staring him down.  
"Hear, hear." Blake smiled, lifting his hands in submission.  
“Okay, then... guess we'll just restructure. I hate changing plans after so much work-” Tassiter urged himself between Blake's legs, running a hand from his ankle to his hips.  
“Oh indeed, such a horrendous waste-” Blake agreed, tilting his head to the side to give room for Tassiter's hungry kisses.  
“Well then” The kisser breathed against the throat. “Just give me back the condom, and-”  
Blake snapped the little foil package far out of Tassiter's reach and left him accidentally groping the air, staring in astonishment. “Umh... excuse me?”  
Blake let it fall off the couch. “Oh... whoops. Clumsy me.” He teased.  
He bent down to retrieve it, but as he returned to sight, it was Harold's slim black tie that was in his hand instead.  
“What? What do you need that for? Where is the condom?” Harold squinted at Jeffrey, and the second it took to understand was enough to seal his fate. With his wrists suddenly firmly tied to one leg of the couch, he could only watch with shock how Blake got dressed again.  
“What are you doing! Leaving?” He inquired, angrily tugging at the restraints.  
  
Blake procured his small EchoPad from the pocket of his coat and peacefully paced around his naked, tied up colleague. After tapping a few gestures on the screen, he placed it on the table. A website was streaming a video. A basement with sombre dramatic lighting framing a naked man suspended in a harness in the middle of the concrete room. A few suited dark men circled him ominously, with a hodgepodge of gadgets in their hands. One cracked a riding crop: "So Mr Smith, about that money you owe us..."  
Tassiter squinted at the EchoPad, and looked at Blake for an answer.  
“Yes, I'm leaving. And I'll leave you with this as an incentive to stay ready for my return...” Blake said, blowing Tassiter an air kiss.  
  
“Tsk, I can just not watch it, Jeffrey?! I can barely see the thing anyway!” Tassiter sneered and turned his head away.  
“Who said I want you to watch it? Listening will be all the more unbearable to you... my little audiophile.”  
From the EchoPad, the crack of a riding crop against naked skin. A muffled, desperate groan and snickering that chittered with sadistic bliss.  
"I'll be right back." Blake cooed.

 

* * *

"Will you fucking put it in already?!” Harold yelled furiously, hips grinding back against the hand that fingered him yet again. There were three fingers inside him, by far a personal record. But Jeffrey, who had returned with full equipment to handle the aroused beast, was just smiling that eternally patient smile that was now seeming more like a devilish tease.  
"Oh but Harold, I don't want to hurt you, and maybe we're not ready for this after all..."  
"Put! It! In!" Tassiter snapped at him. "Jesus fucking Christ, you demon! I want you to take that cock of yours and ...insert it into my behind. Just give it a few good jabs, honestly, I'm positive it'll be over quite quick by now!"  
There were advantages to having a lewd beast all tied up. Despite his foaming aggression, Harold was still at the whim of Jeffrey's will. He could twist and scream and growl all he wanted, he could kick and thrust his hips -he couldn't make him do anything.  
"I swear, as soon as I'm free, Jeffrey, I'm going to..."  
Blake slowly squeezed three fingers all the way up to his knuckles, bending towards the prostrate. He poked it, and Tassiter squeaked. As Jeffrey exchanged his fingers with the head of his painfully hard erection, already throbbing under the latex coating, Tassiter groaned. "Fuck, finally!" The groan grew louder as he finally pushed in. The forward movement was agonizingly slow, but he did not stop until his pubic bone was flush against the other's hips.

Blake took a moment to admire the picture below him. Tassiter lying on his stomach, nude and arched and so tense with urges. His hands above his head, slightly awkwardly twisted, as they were still tied up. His behind eagerly raised. As Blake didn't move, Tassiter threw him an impatient glance over his shoulder, blurry and angry.  
"You gonna just kneel there and stare at me or are you gonna pull this through?"  
Blake gave his groin a little push. Tassiter moaned louder than expected, meaning that you could _hear_ it at all, sounding choked by the size of what's inside of him.  
"Fuck, you're so huge..."  
Blake chuckled as he pulled back and squeezed himself in again, admiring in every smallest detail of the sensation.  
"Harold, I'm not that big. And I'm not being modest here, I am statistically average. By factual numbers."  
"Fucking goddamn huge..." Tassiter muttered heatedly. He shuddered awfully whenever Blake moved too slowly. But tensed when he began to assume a firm, sensual rhythm. Blake just cooed with delight -a low, drawn out sigh and a peaceful smile on his face. Tassiter gave erratic noises of gasps, grumbles, growls and, sometimes, overwhelmed yelps.

"Oooh... you're so tense, darling..." Jeffrey hummed with arousal soaking his voice. "Are you good?"  
Tassiter, jutting back and forth with Blake's movement, threw a tense smirk over his shoulder and gave an assertive nod. Blake could have sworn that his eye had twitched.  
"Your smile looks fake, love.” He said.  
"That's because it is!" Tassiter snapped. “I’m a little worried about the couch… what if I make a mess? I am definitely going to make a mess if this turns out successful, and…. oh the thought alone grosses me out!“ As Blake cautiously slowed down, Tassiter began to grind his groin against the fullness inside him, aching to keep up the speed. Beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. “Ohh no, but you're definitely _not_ supposed to go slower! Either stop or give me a 100%! Maybe get a towel first, yes, and then…”  
  
With his closed eyes, he couldn't coming see that Blake immediately followed the instruction. He did not get a towel, as his sudden inability to breathe indicated. Tassiter startled with the violence of the act, but soon gave in to the rough treatment of Blake's bony hands strangulating him with frightening absolution, and his hardened cock plowing into him. Blake's smile broadened as he realized that Tassiter was melting into the sensation with a slackened body, and an arched back, gasping for air in vain. He felt his hips thrusting towards him, pleading to get more.  
His wrists tore at the restriction, aching to help his release, but the tie held tight. High quality fabric.  
Tassiter shuddered, biting his lower lip, his body so tense it stiffened entirely -and without a warning, Jeffrey slowed down to almost a halt. He let go off the dark pink neck, and Tassiter sucked in a big gulp of air.  
  
"You fucking idiot! I was almost there!" He shrieked, violently ripping at the constraints.  
"I know, my dear, I know." Blake lovingly kissed the nape of his neck.  
"It's hard enough for me to melt that downstairs tundra, and now you're sabotaging it?" Tassiter beared his teeth.  
"Oh no, my love, I'm drawing it out. I'm enjoying the moment..." He snuggled his nose into Tassiter's hair.  
"Oh come on, make me come like a good little underling, will you?" Tassiter sighed.  
Blake's thrusts were agonizingly sluggish, but Tassiter whined as if he was fucking him raw in slow-motion. The other just hummed happily, which sounded more and more malicious.  
“I-I’m so goddamn close, you sadistic bastard! If you don't fucking get a move on, I'll-"  
Getting his wish granted shut him up with a choked sound that had planned to be a scream, if a hand hadn't cut it off.  
One hand strangled him with bruising violence, one pumped his dog, Blake's hips forced his throbbing member deep enough to jab his prostrate repeatedly. A weak masochistic smile tugged at Harold's lips, as he wasn't capable of other reactions. Every thrust tickled all the right senses. It only took a quick crescendo, the straightforward ascension to release all accumulated unfulfilled teases, before Blake could feel the cock in his hand quiver and spurt a hot stickiness all over his palm (he attempted and managed to catch most of it in his fist). Tassiter's entire body spasmed into complete rigidity, and the sudden tightness made it so easy for Blake to orgasm within a few more well-placed thrusts into the raw, aching body. An engulfing sensation of warmth and bliss draped him like a soft blanket as he rode out his climax. He couldn't help but smile with satisfaction, as he observed Harold's slow descent from orgasm, entirely free of rational thought.  
"W-Well done, Jeffrey. You've succeeded." Harold managed to stutter absent-mindedly, gazing at the floor.  
“...This weird fullbody soreness will go away with time, right? You didn’t… break my dick or cause any internal organ rupture, did you?”  
  
Blake cleaned his hand with a napkin from the pockets of his trousers and disposed of it. He made sure to sneakily wipe away the few drops he had failed to catch and hoped that it wouldn’t be too obvious on the cushion. At least not until much later. He untied his partner, giving the strained muscles a well-deserved rest, and laid down besides him.  
“Relax, Harry. This is the aftermath. You’ll feel just like before in no time. You are always so paranoid about your organs failing…”  
“I feel all tingly and light-headed… like my limbs have all fallen asleep… this can’t be normal…” Harold mumbled.  
Blake snatched a cigarette from inside the drawer of the side table, where Tassiter usually hid a pack, and lit one. The earthy aroma of the tobacco was familiar, a brand he had offered Harold so often that he began buying the same for himself. Blake had long changed the brand; it was a nostalgic taste.  
“You are rather enchanting when you make those helpless faces, though… I hope to see more than half of your face next time.” Blake said, placing kisses on Tassiter's jaw and ear.  
“N-not on the ear, it's... so loud...” Tassiter mumbled. He turned to lie on his back, borrowed the cigarette that was technically his and took a deep drag.  
"Oh I don't want to feed your bad habits, my dear..." Blake said, claiming it back.  
Tassiter replied with a sarcastic sneer, and took it back yet again, blowing smoke into the other's face.  
As his heart began to slowly settle down, he made himself comfortable with his head resting on Blake's chest, an arm around his waist, and his body snug and safe in a warm one-armed embrace.

"So...” Harold murmured. “You already know my opinion of you, Jeff, and you have excellent memory. So, uh, I don't need to _repeat_ that, do I...” Discomfort scrunched up his face.  
Blake sighed understandingly, knowing the deal. “No, you don't need to... The action speaks for itself.”  
He drew him closer with his arm around his shoulders, placing a loving kiss on his forehead. Harold gave a little huff but edged closer, breathing into the crook of Blake's neck with peaceful satisfaction.  
“Thank you. For… this thing.” Harold mumbled, almost too quiet to be heard.  
“It was all my pleasure, my love.” Jeffrey replied.  
  
After some tired moments of silence and sharing a cigarette, Blake said: “I do wonder though... where did you get that asphyxiation idea from?” He shook him amicably with one arm. “It's not like you to research these kinds of things without an incentive. Have you seen employees doing it, did someone talk about it, did you read it in a book, or...”  
“No... I... well, I had a dream last week, where...” Harold mumbled quietly. ”Ohhh boy… Now this is going to sound a little weird.” He paused dramatically. “I had a dream where John... strangled me.” Before Jeffrey could comment, he added hastily: “But not in a _sexual_ way, mind you. Oh no, nothing could be further from the truth! It was a nightmare, alright? Utterly humiliating!" He took a deep breath. "But when I woke up again, I was so relieved to be alive and... well, for some reason I was aroused to the point of an erection? So... I got curious.”  
“Is that so... “ Blake smiled.  
“Not about _John_ , about the strangling!”  
“Yes, I know.” Blake assured him, rather amused. “Well, it's probably good you came to me for this. I don't think John would've been... as safe. He might have taken advantage of the situation. Well, even more than I did...” He gave a little mischievous snicker.  
“Oh you don't have to tell me, that was absolutely out of the question!” Tassiter laughed. ”John, this pathetic insect, doesn't _deserve_ to make me feel like _this_.” He went quiet and swallowed drily, getting a little lost in the afterglow of his body.  
Jeffrey cocked his eyebrow and gave a little grin, flattered and pleased by the hidden compliment.  
"Harold, maybe try not think about John more often than already necessary...” He cooed soothingly, petting his forehead. “The stress isn't good for you, and evidently, he's already haunting your dreams.”  
“Easy for you to say! If I don't keep an eye on him, this jokester is going to ruin the company! This impertinent little vermin is just a ticking time-bomb, if I could only fire him _now_! But nooo, the board says I had no valid reasons to, and it would be unprofessional to act upon gut feeling! I swear to god, Jeffrey, that John, he's up to no good! I guess I'll just have to find ways to make use of that bastard, but-...”  
Tassiter pressed his face into the crook of Blake's neck and gave a muffled frustrated scream. Blake in turn wrapped both his arms tightly around his superior, and gently petted his back until he slowly relaxed again. Blake could have sworn that Tassiter had mumbled something against his chest after he had calmed down, but he couldn't quite discern it, and that was probably Tassiter's intention anyway.  
“ _Of course_.” Blake said anyway, softly raking his fingers through Tassiter's thinning hair.  
“Well, now you know that in case John ever decided to strangle you...” He said, while Tassiter already grumbled a warning.  
“You’d at least die doing something you like.” Blake teased, snickering against Tassiter's scalp.  
“Don't you _ever_ joke about that, Jeff.” Tassiter hissed, this time genuinely offended -and Blake, in turn, went regretfully quiet.


End file.
